Only The True Of Heart

The coming of cooler weather has brought with it the wearing of jackets and, at least for me, the inner jacket pocket. This nest of convenience is where my dollars and credit cards rest until needed, alongside the sacred work ID which allows me entrance to my office.

Because I am a human, I am lazy in tiny, stupid, specific ways. One of those being the following: rather than unzipping my jacket, reaching into my inner pocket, removing my work ID, and waving it in front of the computer sensor until it beeps and unlocks my office door, I prefer to keep everything zipped and tidy, lean my chest down before the sensor, and let my ID do its beep-summoning through layers of cotton and down.

When I first realized you could beep-through-clothes, so to speak, it blew my mind a little. I can’t deny tucking the ID up my sleeve and, with a wave of my arm, pretending that it was some sort of magical power granting me entrance to the desk where I displace air for 8 hours each day.

But that fantasy soon wore off, another settling in.

Now, when I approach the strange unlocking sensor thingy, ID nestled close to my chest, I can only make the door beep by leaning in very, very closely. And every time that happens, I can’t help but feel as though I’m being judged. As if entrance to my holy temple of employment will be granted only if my heart is pure, my intentions true and honorable. And when I do get in, I'm always slightly disappointed to find my desk and computer waiting there for me, instead of a dragon in need of slaying.

I was born in the wrong time period, I think.